Found
by looneyluna
Summary: Sequel to Lost. Malcolm adjusts to life on Enterprise. Malcolm's past isn't done with him yet. How will this affect Hoshi? Complete! Please R&R.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Found

Author: Looneyluna

Rating: R

Category: General, Romance

Summary: Sequel to Lost. Malcolm's past isn't done with him yet. How will this affect Hoshi?

Author's Notes: No archive allowed. Thanks to PJ and Kathy Rose for beta reading. 

I don't own Enterprise.

--

"That sure is a nice shiner Malcolm's sportin'," Cmdr. Trip Tucker stated before he stuffed a fork full of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

Travis Mayweather took a swig of his juice, hiding his smile. Setting his cup down, he leaned forward. "You should have seen who gave it to him."

Raised in a house full of women and his daddy, Trip knew the value of good gossip and leaned in to listen.

"She won't admit a thing, but I think Hoshi and Malcolm were…well…attracted to one another before he got his memories back. I don't have a whole lot of details, but I do remember how interested Hoshi was in getting Malcolm to socialize when we rescued him and – " Travis stopped mid-sentence as somebody walked by. 

Trip watched the crewman walk by with a look of annoyance on his face. How dare he interrupt a good gossip session. 

"Hoshi and I have been training in the morning with Lieutenant Gomez. To pass the course, we had to pass the finals," Travis continued. "We had to spar with the other instructor of the course."

"I flunked," Trip admitted. "I lost count of how many times Lieutenant Gomez flipped me. Of course, Malcolm's technique was anything but memorable."

"You flunked?" Travis asked incredulously. 

"Does it matter? You're off track. How did Malcolm get the shiner?" he asked quietly, looking over his shoulder at the new armory officer. 

Travis looked over his shoulder and around the room, then said one word. "Hoshi." He shoved his mouth full of cereal. 

Somehow Trip kept his juice from coming out his nose as he choked on it. "Ya mean to tell me, Hoshi bested him? Our little com officer?" He shook his head, feeling sorry for Hoshi. 

"But that's not all," Travis whispered conspiratorially. "It seems that Hoshi was mumbling under her breath the whole time she was…sparring with him."

"So," Trip mumbled with his mouth full.

"After he flipped her for the umpteenth time, he told her to stop cursing at him in French – that it was conduct unbecoming an officer."

Trip remained silent, waiting for his friend to continue. When Travis didn't volunteer any more information after a few moments, he asked, "Well, what did she say in French?"

"How would I know? I don't know French." 

"What did she do?"

"Hoshi was pissed," Travis stated. "He flunked her."

"That still doesn't explain how he got the shiner." 

"Lieutenant Commander Reed challenged her again. He had her in a choke hold and she threw her head back. I can still remember the cracking sound as the back of her head connected with his face."

"Really?"

"It dazed him for a little while because it knocked him on his back," laughed Travis. "You should have seen the look on Hoshi's face, as she stood over him poking at him with her boot."

"Uh, huh." Trip set his fork down.

"Well, she stood over him and kept saying how she had won and how he really should pass her. Before she knew it, she was flat on her back with Malcolm on top of her."

Trip's eyes went wide.

"Even though she managed to best him, he still failed her," Travis said.

"I bet Hoshi was spittin' mad and – " Trip stopped mid-sentence when Hoshi walked in, ever mindful of her hearing. "There she is," he whispered as low as he could.

Both men became silent observers as they watched her collect a tray, turn around and scan the room. If she even noticed Malcolm Reed, one couldn't tell as her glance skimmed coldly over the tactical officer. 

Her gaze met Trip's and she started walking toward them. 

"There who is?" Hoshi asked with a smile and set her tray on the table.

"Uh." Trip took a sip of his tea. "Lieutenant Gomez just left. Travis and I were talking about how I failed the final."

"Stupid class," Hoshi muttered under her breath. "I really don't see why we have to take the classes." Hoshi stuffed some pancakes into her mouth, frustrated.

Travis looked at Trip and Trip looked at Travis, neither knowing quite what to say. 

"If it's any consolation, I flunked my final," Trip stated with a smile as he wiggled his eyebrows. 

She couldn't help but laugh as the image of the petite Lieutenant Gomez flipping the tall, lanky engineer over her shoulder popped into Hoshi's mind. 

--

Dabbing his lips with his napkin, Malcolm stood and picked up his tray. He envied how easily Hoshi got along with her fellow crewmates and couldn't help the spark of jealousy within him. 

The more time passed, the more he was convinced he had made the right decision by requesting assignment to Enterprise, despite what the proximity to Hoshi was doing to him.

Further investigation into Madeline's death had revealed nothing new and her case remained classified as an accident, but doubts remained. Admiral Bryant had resigned without a fuss amid the phase cannon design inquiry. 

There was still something that bothered him, though – something that kept him up at night. 

It was just too easy. 

In his mind, Malcolm knew Bryant was responsible for the attack on Jupiter station. But something told him Bryant wasn't the only one involved. He was missing something – something crucial he just couldn't put his finger on. 

Hoshi's laughter carried across the room and Malcolm smiled, quickly wincing his black eye made itself known. At least she was happy…and safe. 

She certainly was explicit and creative in her mastery of French during her final exam. Only having an average understanding of the language, Malcolm didn't know how he had kept a straight face when she had told him to bite her. 

He'd had her in a headlock then and leaned into her, her scent and the feel of her in his arms momentarily weakening his resolve. He had whispered his reply in French so that no one else could hear. "Where would you like me to bite you?"

Next thing he had recalled was a loud cracking noise when the back of her head connected with his face. It had dazed him, and when Hoshi had stood over him gloating, he had realized she needed a lesson in humility. 

Knocking her down, he had quickly pinned her. That had been a huge mistake. The bodily contact had shocked him, reminding him of what they had once shared and how much he craved to have it again. He should have let her gloat. 

He was a coward and he freely admitted it when it came to her. He had purposely arranged as little contact with her as possible, but two months on board with such a tight-knit crew was proving problematic. 

The training course had been split into two sessions – self-defense and weapons' training. He had made sure that Hoshi was in Lieutenant Gomez's course, but it was time for the weapons' training to start and there was no way around dealing with Hoshi. Besides, he still had to pass her on the self-defense course. 

Tonight would define their relationship. He knew he couldn't continue avoiding her. It was time to bury the hatchet and establish the boundaries of professionalism. 

He would rather be facing a firing squad.


	2. Chapter Two

Pacing the length of the room, Malcolm ran his hand through his hair. She was late. He should have known she would do this – her silent way to protest his treatment of her this morning. She had found subtle ways of slighting him since he had returned and it needed to stop.

Everything was going according to plan. He had alienated her like the other women in his life, but something had to give. They couldn't go on as they were. They had to work together.

His thoughts were cut short when the hatch to the gym opened. His eyes ran up and down the body he was so familiar with -- the one that still aroused him in his dreams. She was dressed in her exercise outfit – baggy sweat pants and a blue blouse. Her midriff was exposed. "You're late, Lieutenant."

Setting down her bag, Hoshi replied with little remorse, "I'm sorry, sir." She cursed her schedule and eyed Malcolm warily. It never failed. Every fives days she would miss dinner because she crawled straight into bed after her shift. Damn her insomnia.

Hoshi remembered her grandmother telling her about her insomnia, and how she could never make it past the fifth day without collapsing in total exhaustion. Her grandmother would work all week long, and then crawl into bed and sleep the entire weekend. Hoshi didn't have the luxury of weekends. The concept just didn't exist on a starship.

 At least she had the presence of mind to set the alarm for this torture session. 

"Shall we begin?" asked Malcolm solemnly, rubbing his hand together and taking a defensive posture.

Hoshi advanced, her attack easily deflected by him. 

"That was sloppy," he goaded and slapped her next offensive away easily. "And so was that."

"I'm just warming up," she growled. 

Rolling his eyes, Malcolm motioned for her to try again. "Let me know when you're finished so I can prepare myself."

Hoshi swiped at him, angered by his taunting tone. "I see the swelling around your black eye went down. Should I be looking forward to a formal reprimand for striking a superior officer? That seems to be your M.O."

"I beg your pardon?" he replied tersely. 

Scoffing, Hoshi threw her hands in the air. "The away mission last week. You entered a formal reprimand on my record for violation of security protocol."

Starting to relax, Malcolm smothered a smile. "Most people don't even pay attention to the minor infractions. I'm surprised Captain Archer mentioned it."

"I didn't realize you would get all bent out of shape just because I left the shuttle before you did, Mal – Lieutenant Commander."

"We were in an alien environment," he replied coolly, noticing her slip. "It is standard procedure for security personnel to enter areas first.

"I've already got plenty of black marks on my record, thanks to you. Is it really necessary to nitpick?" Her eyes flashed. "Why did you come back?"

The question hung in the air and Malcolm exhaled slowly. "I had no where else to go. The investigation dragged on and…"

He ran a hand through his hair. "I apologize for my behavior when we first met."

Hoshi stood stock still, her heart pounding.

"My conduct toward you was deplorable and I didn't consider the position I would put you in by requesting assignment to Enterprise."

Hoshi nodded for him to continue, resolution finally within her grasp.

He could see her relax and continued. "I had hoped we could at least be friends."

"When were we ever friends?" she scoffed, irritated at the lame brush-off. "You had your fun. I was convenient. No harm, no foul."

Grabbing her upper arms, Malcolm flipped her on the mat and straddled her hips. "You were anything but convenient. I thought of you the entire time that damned investigation dragged on. You are the reason I chose Enterprise. I had every intention of picking up where we left off, but I hadn't even considered a relationship with you within the confines of Starfleet regulations."

Her eyes flashed angrily, and he continued. 

"You don't even know me, Hoshi. A relationship with me…the real me…would be a disaster. You've worked hard for your career. Why would you jeopardize everything by having an affair with a senior officer? Is that what you want?" His voice was cold, yet held an underlying tenderness.

He had said that he would love her no matter what happened. Any hopes of capturing scraps of that promise quickly diminished before her. The man who held her now wasn't the same man who made that promise. 

"You're right," she sighed, unable to meet his gaze. "I apologize for my behavior…sir."

He could see her hooded gaze and felt like the biggest heel on the ship. He hadn't meant to say anything, but this needed to be resolved. She hated him and he hated himself. But she would be better off without him.  Standing, he offered a hand to her. 

Hoshi grasped his hand and stood up. "Thank you." 

Malcolm nodded, noticing how tired she looked and realizing her insomnia was back. 

Heaving a sigh, Hoshi placed a phantom smile on her lips. His reasoning was flawless if not painful. Her career was already tenuous – the possibility of advancement gone since she had hacked into the database.  "You're right," she repeated. "Thank you." She didn't know what else to say. "I have to go. I have a double shift starting in an hour and I need to get some sleep."

Malcolm watched her leave, feeling as though he were the biggest ass in the universe.  

--

 Sitting in his ready room and quietly sipping some coffee, Archer perused the daily reports before his second shift. Nothing out of the ordinary stood out and he congratulated himself for running a smooth operation. He looked at the time and pointed at the door as it chimed. Ever predictable, he knew exactly who was ringing his door at this hour. 

"Enter," he called out. 

Malcolm walked in and stood at rest, handing a PADD to his captain. "Everything's in order, sir. 'Target practice' starts tomorrow and everybody has completed Defensive Combatant training with flying colors."

"And how are your babies?" Archer asked bemusedly, as Malcolm shifted uneasily. His armory officer still had yet to adjust to his captain's easygoing command style. 

"Phase cannon efficiency is up by thirteen percent, sir," stated Malcolm dryly. "Commander Tucker assures me that the glitch will be fixed by tomorrow morning and that testing can resume then."

Jon perused the PADD in his hand and frowned. "You're requesting secure access codes for Lieutenant Sato?"

"Yes, sir," replied Malcolm quickly.

"Doesn't she already have them?"

Looking squarely at his superior officer, Malcolm stated, "No, sir. She's been coming to me for her daily access codes. I believe it is a detriment to the efficiency of her duties for her codes to be changing every day."

Quickly wiping the "oh shit" look off his face, Jon nodded. He had forgotten about the hacking fiasco and Hoshi's penalty. "You're the tactical officer. It's your call."

"Very well, sir." Malcolm gave little away as he made to leave. 

"Wait a minute, Mr. Reed. What is a medical request doing in your security report?" asked Jon as he read over the PADD and noted another mention of Hoshi. "Dr. Phlox wants Lieutenant Sato cleared of duty for the next two days? Why?"

"Dr. Phlox had already submitted his report and asked me to include his notation. It seems the lieutenant's insomnia could become a performance issue." Malcolm stood at attention and waited, hoping the request didn't show preferential treatment toward his former lover. 

"I need the Orion documents double-checked before we submit the speech for the trade conference. They are due by Wednesday." Jon felt like an ass. Hoshi's insomnia must be really bad if Malcolm was bringing it to his attention. Maybe he should just order him to sleep with her. That would definitely relieve the pressure between them on the bridge. No doubt Malcolm would carry out his order. 

"She can have tomorrow off, but I need the verified translation by 0800 Wednesday." 

He watched whimsically as Malcolm excused himself. "Malcolm," he called out. He enjoyed good gossip like anybody else, and Hoshi's move on Malcolm was the stuff legends were made of on Enterprise. "Although I appreciate your attention to duty, you really ought to get your black eye treated by Phlox."  


	3. Chapter Three

  
  
Sipping his coffee, Malcolm examined the news articles on his PADD. He paged through, briefly noting the various political rhetoric and rallies for various causes. There was a rally for the Isolationist Party on the lunar colony of New Berlin, and he skimmed the article briefly.  
  
When were they going to learn? He shook his head and scoffed. Their philosophy was outdated and their methods were obtuse. They deemed space travel outside humanity's own solar system as reckless and counterproductive. They abhorred alien contacts, with exception to Vulcan, and supported a ban on interspecies commerce. They were an obsolete political party with no power.  
  
"Is this seat taken?"  
  
Malcolm looked up and saw the ever-cheerful face of Enterprise's helmsman. "Please have a seat," he replied and motioned for Travis to sit.  
  
Travis sat down and grimaced. The man had stuck his nose back into his PADD and was shoveling food into his mouth at a faster rate. Talk about rude! "Have you seen Ho – Lieutenant Sato, this morning?"  
  
Malcolm started coughing. With any luck, she was still asleep. She wasn't due to wake up until noon. At least that's what he had set her alarm for. "No...I haven't."  
  
Travis sipped some juice. "That's weird. She's normally the first one in line for breakfast," he stated as he reached into his pocket for his communicator.  
  
"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked.  
  
"I'm going to call her." Travis smiled.  
  
"She's off duty...Perhaps she's still asleep," Malcolm mumbled, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth.  
  
Travis could hardly believe his ears. Had they finally patched things up? For somebody who rarely put a three-word sentence together, his superior officer was becoming quite a Chatty-Kathy. He smiled wider. "I see she passed self-defense."  
  
Malcolm stared at the young lieutenant skeptically. "I was quite impressed with your score, Mr. Mayweather. I hate to impose on Lieutenant Gomez any more than necessary and was looking for an alternate sparring partner. I was wondering if you would be interested?"  
  
Travis' mouth hung open, a pile of eggs perched precariously on his fork and he shuddered on the inside. "Uh, sure, sir."  
  
"Splendid!" Malcolm exclaimed cheerily. "I work out Tuesdays and Thursdays in the evenings."  
  
Travis gulped nervously, wondering how the hell he had been bamboozled into training with Malcolm Reed. No wonder Hoshi didn't like him.  
  
Malcolm looked down at his PADD and grinned. Hoshi picked her friends well. He could see Lieutenant Mayweather shovel his breakfast down and wipe his mouth.  
  
"Well, it was nice talking to you, sir," Travis mumbled as he stood up. Damn! He was going to have indigestion all day.  
  
--  
  
Her stomach growling, Hoshi woke up, feeling amazingly refreshed. She sighed, finally able to think straight for the first time in a long time. That hour really did the trick. Out of habit she peered at her terminal to check the time. Obviously, she was up before her alarm had gone off.  
  
"Oh shit!" Hoshi jumped out of bed and ran out of her quarters. She was way behind and she was going to have to pull an all-nighter to get those verified translations ready for Captain Archer by tomorrow morning and she hadn't even started on them.  
  
The turbolift opened and she ran right into a wall of warmth.  
  
"Easy there, Hoshi. Where's the fire?" Travis asked as he stumbled backwards, holding her steady.  
  
"I've got to go. I've got to get something to eat and get to the bridge." Hoshi tried pulling away from him, but Travis wouldn't let her go.  
  
"Uh, Hoshi. I think you're a little – "  
  
"Will you let go of me?" Hoshi tugged on her arm.  
  
"Is there a problem?"  
  
Hoshi straightened and turned, all too familiar with Malcolm's voice.  
  
Clearing his throat, Travis stepped in front of Hoshi. "No, sir."  
  
Malcolm stared at Travis, then looked around at Hoshi. "Aren't you a little underdressed, Lieutenant?"  
  
She hadn't even noticed her attire. She was still dressed in her workout clothes, but had managed to take off her shoes and socks before she crashed last night.  
  
Travis moved out of the way and she blushed as everybody looked down at her bare feet.  
  
Malcolm's eyes traveled up and down the length of her body, noticing her painted toenails and the clothes she had on last night. Her hair was messy and her eyes were glassy. "Are you feeling well, Lieutenant?"  
  
"I-I'm fine," she stammered, curling her toes into the deck. "I'll go back to my quarters and change, sir. I apologize for my – "  
  
"There's no need to apologize," Malcolm interrupted.  
  
Listening to the exchange, Travis shook his head in disbelief. Just two days ago, they were barely civil to one another.  
  
"Your shift was canceled last night and you have been taken off today's duty roaster," Malcolm explained nonchalantly.  
  
Hoshi was at a loss for words.  
  
"I've also changed your scheduled target practice to 1900 Thursday night."  
  
"Why?" she asked skeptically.  
  
"It's my understanding you're supposed to be resting in your quarters." Malcolm's voice held an underlying menace. He knew this confrontation wouldn't go well. How was he going to explain to her that he had arranged a day off for her to rest? How was he going to explain to her that he reset the alarm in her terminal to noon today? What else were friends for, right?  
  
"You were taken off today's duty roaster and – " he started again.  
  
"Why?" she repeated.  
  
"There goes any civility," Travis thought to himself as he watched Hoshi become confrontational.  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Malcolm turned to leave. "Perhaps you should speak with Doctor Phlox."  
  
Hoshi frowned. She hadn't seen Phlox for several weeks now. Why would he take her off the rotation? "I don't have the time. I've got a translation due and I'm already behind on it. I've got to eat, shower, and get to the bridge. There isn't any – "  
  
"I'm sure Lieutenant Mayweather would be more than happy to bring you some breakfast," Malcolm suggested.  
  
Travis nodded his head in an exaggerated manner. The lieutenant commander's tone sounded ominous.  
  
"But I have to – " Hoshi started to say.  
  
"Go back to your quarters and rest – doctor's orders," Malcolm stated as he summoned the lift.  
  
"I – "  
  
"Do I need to call security?"  
  
The threat hung in the air and Travis took a step back. He didn't want to get between them in case things got ugly. Holding his breath, he prayed Hoshi would back down.  
  
Between her stomach growling and the call of nature, she realized she wasn't going to be able to stand barefoot in the hall and argue with Malcolm. "No, sir."  
  
She eyed Malcolm warily and the door to the lift opened. There was something he wasn't telling her and she was going to find out what it was. Her gaze lingering on Malcolm, Hoshi spoke to Travis. "I want whatever fruit is being served, eggs over easy, and some toast, please. Add some coffee and I'll be good to go. I can always work on the translation in my quarters."  
  
Hoshi backed into the lift.  
  
Malcolm watched the doors shut and glared at them. "Make sure the coffee is decaffeinated," he murmured to Travis.  
  
Travis watched him walk away and shook his head. There was definitely something between them, and he planned on weaseling it out of Hoshi.  
  



	4. Chapter Four

Travis stepped back after accessing the panel to Hoshi's quarters and hearing a muffled curse. The door slid open and he thrust the food in front of him like a sacrifice in case Hoshi was still angry.  
  
There had to be something between her and Malcolm Reed – something she wasn't willing to fess up to.  
  
"Room service," he called out brightly.  
  
Hoshi stopped pacing and looked at him, and Travis' step faltered. "Uh, I'll just leave it on your desk and – "  
  
"Sit," barked Hoshi, toweling her hair dry.  
  
Travis set the tray on her desk and sat down in the chair.  
  
Continuing to dry her hair, Hoshi paced. "This has his fingerprints all over it," she mumbled.  
  
"Who?" Travis asked, already knowing who she was referring to.  
  
Hoshi stopped pacing and reached over Travis, grabbing the lid off the dish. "Lieutenant Commander Reed," she growled and straightened, tossing the lid onto the bunk.  
  
Travis took the opportunity to get out of her way. He knew how she was when she was hungry and he needed all his fingers.  
  
She sat down, grabbing a bunch of grapes and stuffing them into her mouth.  
  
"I remember when you actually liked the guy," Travis stated quietly, baiting her. "He's not so bad."  
  
Travis smothered his grin as Hoshi turned to scowl at him.  
  
"You haven't been – " Hoshi stopped herself, mindful of spreading any more gossip. There were already too many rumors. She stuffed her mouth full of eggs and looked down.  
  
Risking the loss of a finger, Travis grabbed Hoshi and turned her to face him in the chair. "What happened?" he asked softly.  
  
Hoshi swallowed and set her fork down, no longer hungry.  
  
"I'm assuming that you and he were...intimate before he left," he said, encouraging her to talk about it.  
  
Hoshi's eyes wouldn't meet his, but he continued anyway. "And when he came back, you two had some sort of argument." He was grasping at straws and he knew it.  
  
Hoshi sniffed, allowing the tears to flow unabashedly down her cheeks. "That's just it. He didn't come back."  
  
Travis waited for her to regain her composure, feeling like a heel for pressing her for information and hoping she would forgive him. "What do you mean?"  
  
"After his run in with Mukai, I thought every thing was going to be okay," she started. "I didn't even know his amnesia was gone. Captain Archer sent me away and Malcolm left on the T'Vala. We never had a chance to say goodbye."  
  
Remaining silent, Travis realized Hoshi needed somebody to listen now more than ever.  
  
"The Captain told me that Malcolm had been sent back to Earth to stand trial for treason. It was all a lie. From what information I've gathered, Malcolm went to work for Starfleet Intelligence and completed some sort of investigation." Hoshi paused and wiped away some tears.  
  
"Go on," coaxed Travis.  
  
Sighing, Hoshi continued. "When I found out he was coming back, I thought – I thought he was coming back for me. He's not the same, Travis. It was like he didn't even know me."  
  
"Is it possible he suffered another injury?" Travis questioned.  
  
Hoshi couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the question. Had Malcolm gone off and simply forgotten her? His words during the final exam shook the thought from her mind. There was no doubt he remembered her.  
  
"He said that a relationship with the 'real' him would be a disaster, and told me to focus on my career," Hoshi whispered painfully.  
  
Travis winced.  
  
Wiping a tear away, Hoshi scoffed, "He even mentioned something about wanting to be friends."  
  
"Ouch," Travis cringed. "Friends" was never a good sign. He gathered Hoshi into his arms and rocked her as she cried.  
  
He pulled away and made her look at him. "You want me to hurt him for you? I'm his new sparring partner," he said, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Her sobs turned into giggles. Why was she crying over a man? Surely there were more worthwhile things to cry over. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think hurting the jackass will solve anything."  
  
"It might make you feel better," Travis stated, nudging her shoulder.  
  
Hoshi brightened. "Actually," she said, lifting the lid to her coffee. "This will make me feel better. This and chocolate are my only true addictions."  
  
She sipped the coffee and made a face. "What the hell is this?" she sputtered.  
  
Astounded that she could even tell the difference between decaf and regular coffee, Travis started backing away. "Don't shoot the delivery boy. It was all chef had left and the dispenser is on the fritz."  
  
He should feed badly for lying to her, but he didn't want to admit Malcolm had anything to do with the decaf coffee. For a man who had decided he had no interest in Hoshi, Malcolm certainly seemed interested.  
  
"I have to be on duty in a few minutes. I'll see you at lunch," Travis stated, hastily making his exit.  
  
--  
  
"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander. What can I do for you?" Phlox acknowledged Malcolm's intrusion into his domain with a curt nod as he fed his menagerie.  
  
Malcolm cleared his throat. He needed to cover his backside. "I need a favor."  
  
Phlox placed the food container on the nearest table and listened.  
  
"I followed your suggestion regarding Lieutenant Sato and took her off the duty roaster today," he said slowly. So, Phlox hadn't actually ordered Hoshi to take the day off, but he had suggested it. If he knew one thing about his former lover, it was that she didn't like being thwarted.  
  
"And?" Phlox asked curiously.  
  
"Well, I...it appears that Hoshi was taken off the roaster due to your direct order, and I –"  
  
Understanding dawned on Phlox and he smiled, wanting to spare the man any further embarrassment. "It was a direct order. In fact, I ordered two days, not just one. Did I forget to validate the order?"  
  
Malcolm sighed, thankful the Denobulan was tactful. "Thank you, Doctor. Yes, you did. I need you to validate the order," he stated, handing Phlox a PADD.  
  
Typing his authorization code into the PADD, Phlox looked at Malcolm. "Are you sure this is the best course of action?"  
  
Malcolm nodded.  
  
"You obviously care for her still," Phlox stated, handing the PADD back to Malcolm.  
  
"Yes," Malcolm admitted. He did still care for her. Hell, he loved her. "Trust me, Doctor. She's better off without me." His mission accomplished, Malcolm left.  
  
Phlox stared after him, pondering the romance between the two officers. "I wonder if he has considered if he is better off without her?" Phlox murmured to no one in particular.  
  



	5. Chapter Five

  
  
Smothering a yawn, Hoshi walked into the Captain's ready room. "Here are the translations for the conference, sir."  
  
Jon smiled. "Good. Were there any problems?"  
  
"No, sir. There were just some misplaced pronouns, but I took care of them. The UT shouldn't miss them again. If you experience any problems, I'll be a com signal away." Hoshi shifted uneasily.  
  
Her relationship with the Captain had been strained ever since she had been reprimanded. She had no body to blame but herself. They had been friends before he had recruited her, and broken trust was always difficult to reclaim. Other than asking her opinion regarding Malcolm's assignment to Enterprise, Jon had barely spoken to her outside regular duties.  
  
She was still embarrassed about the hacking incident, and she had jeopardized her career and her friendship with Jon.  
  
He stood, stretching. "Actually I'm assigning you to the mission. We can't have any delays if the UT goes on the blink again. You know how the Orions are."  
  
"Really?" She asked excitedly. She hadn't been on a mission since her security access had been revoked.  
  
Jon grinned. Hoshi had been sulking around him like a scolded child ever since Malcolm had left. "Yes."  
  
"Does this mean I'm restored with all privileges?" she questioned cautiously, her hopes rising.  
  
He had never felt as old as he did at that moment. Hoshi's smile had brightened the room and softened her features. She looked so young, yet worn.  
  
"Malcolm didn't give you the codes yet?" Jon asked, perplexed. "He was supposed to do that yesterday."  
  
Just the mention of the armory officer's name was like snuffing out a candle as he watched Hoshi's smile fall.  
  
He was no fool. He relied on Trip to keep him informed on all the ship's gossip. Whereas Malcolm's expression was always schooled, Hoshi's was completely open. She obviously still had feelings for him. Had Jon let his ambition get the better of him?  
  
Malcolm's credentials were impressive, but Hoshi's innate linguistic ability was a greater asset to Enterprise. "How are you feeling?"  
  
She sighed, putting a brave smile on her face. "Embarrassed. I should have never hacked into the database. It was irresponsible and...Mukai never would have found Lieutenant Commander Reed, if it hadn't been for my unauthorized searches."  
  
"That's not what I'm asking, Hoshi," Jon stated firmly.  
  
Hoshi tensed, yet remained silent.  
  
"Is having Malcolm on board a problem for you?" Jon watched as Hoshi's shoulders began to shake. Damn it to hell! She's crying. He was never going to take fraternization rules for granted again.  
  
Hoshi made a strangled noise and looked up, a wide smile on her face.  
  
What the hell? Jon thought to himself.  
  
"I have...have no problem, s-sir," laughed Hoshi. The look on her captain's face was priceless and a sense of relief washed over her. What would he do if she said yes? Jettison Malcolm out the nearest airlock?  
  
Hoshi sobered. "I have no problems with Lieutenant Commander Reed."  
  
Jon watched his com officer skeptically. Whereas he had told Malcolm he didn't want to hear about any problems, Hoshi was different. "Just let me know if there are any," he said quietly.  
  
"Is that all, sir?" Hoshi stood.  
  
"Yes. Dismissed." Jon nodded.  
  
--  
  
"Try it now," Trip called out from underneath the targeting panel.  
  
Malcolm's fingers danced over the panel, trying to align the targeting scanners. "It's at point oh nine mark one," he said irritably. "It's not good enough."  
  
"Well," Trip huffed as he stood up. "I'm a Starvin' Marvin and I have to break for some sustenance. Besides, we've been at this for five and a half hours."  
  
"Starvin' Marvin?" Malcolm asked, walking over to a storage locker.  
  
"It means I'm hungry," Trip laughed and rolled his eyes. The Brit had a really dry sense of humor, but Trip had yet to actually make him laugh.  
  
Shutting the storage door, Malcolm turned around with another tool in his hand, his intentions to keep working obvious. Would he ever understand the engineer's colloquialisms?  
  
"Come on, Malcolm. It's time for lunch." Trip walked toward the door, expecting the other man to follow.  
  
"Uh...no thanks. I would rather work through," Malcolm stated quietly, even though his stomach growled in protest. He didn't want to run into Hoshi. It would spare her and, in the long run, him any awkwardness.  
  
"Suit yourself. I'm gonna go get some lunch before Hoshi steals my pecan pie." Trip smirked, knowing full well how to rankle his newfound friend.  
  
Malcolm grimaced and walked back to the panel, tossing a glance over his shoulder. He had to give the engineer credit for he had actually gone fifteen minutes with not mentioning Hoshi by name. He was downright incorrigible and Malcolm had learned not to wince as much whenever Trip mentioned her. Hopefully, the engineer would learn the meaning of tact and stop it.  
  
Crawling into the targeting matrix, Malcolm heard the hatch to the armory open. "Did you give up on lunch already?"  
  
Hoshi approached him warily, her eyes transfixed on his ass as the rest of his body was submerged in the tube. Her meeting with Captain Archer had hardened her resolve, and she would never look at Malcolm the same way again. Malcolm Reed was nothing more than a hard-nosed superior officer, with whom with any luck, she could minimize contact.  
  
After all, he did his part by staying in the armory.  
  
"I've come for my security codes, sir," Hoshi announced with an air of annoyance in her voice.  
  
Malcolm hastily retreated from the machine, banging his head on the way and stifling a curse.  
  
Hoshi smirked. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to startle you, sir."  
  
He stood straighter and grabbed a rag, wiping his hands. "That's...that's quite all right, Lieutenant," he stuttered.  
  
She looked over her shoulder, then back at him, perplexed. "I'm sorry. Is there something wrong, sir?" she asked quietly, keeping from smiling as he rubbed his head. Serves him right.  
  
"No, nothing," he replied softly, taking in her appearance and cursing his libido. Just looking at her turned him on.  
  
"The codes, sir," she said with purpose, ignoring the familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach.  
  
"Oh, yes...certainly," he stuttered.  
  
He heard the indifference in her voice. Her eyes held a different depth to them now, something he didn't quite like. Handing her a PADD, he stared into the darkness of her eyes. He had no claim on her now. Why should this bother him?  
  
Remaining impassive, she took the codes. "Thank you, sir." She turned to walk away.  
  
There it was again. Her referral to him as "sir" is what rankled him. It was cold and uncaring. Since he had been on board, her eyes reflected the warmth he had fallen in love with and now they were cold...like his. "Wait," he whispered pleadingly.  
  
"Yes, sir," replied Hoshi coldly as she turned around to look past him.  
  
Noticing her stance and her glance over his shoulder, Malcolm shuddered inwardly. He had succeeded. She was a stranger to him now. Why did he feel the need to correct that?  
  
She saw the briefest flicker of uncertainty cross his face and her determination wavered. It was as though the man she had fallen in love with was standing before her now. "Sir, I'm needed on the bridge," she informed him icily.  
  
"Very well, then," he stated and motioned at the door, watching her leave. "Don't forget weapons' training, 1900 sharp. Don't be late."  
  
He didn't see her wince as she sauntered out of the armory, her cool veneer quickly dissipating.  
  



	6. Chapter Six

  
  
Locking the virtual target in place, Malcolm stepped back and entered the firing protocol into the PADD. He glanced at Hoshi, who loaded the power cell into the phase pistol with ease and caressed the weapon almost lovingly. "Bloody lucky gun," he whispered to himself. He noticed a tension in her shoulders, but didn't say anything. With any luck, it wouldn't throw her score off. "Okay, Lieutenant. There's a thirty-second firing window on both weapons." Malcolm nodded toward the phase pistol, and then to the phase rifle on the table. "Ninety-three percent is passing." "I understand, sir." Hoshi nodded. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could go. Her stomach growled and twisted, and her heart ignored the close proximity of his warmth and the slip of his tongue. She was tired of torturing herself. It was time to turn the tables. "Proceed," he stated as he turned the routine on. With grace and ease, Hoshi fired at the projected targets, hitting most, but missing some. She kept mental note of her misses and her confidence wavered. Before she knew it, his clipped British timbre called time and the target disappeared. She looked down, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Assuming she had managed to get thirty shots off, she was nowhere near passing. Malcolm noted her score – eighty-two percent, and smiled as she huffed in frustration. "Not bad, but far from passing." She tightened her grip on the pistol. "I don't see how anybody can shoot anything with this thing. It's bulky and awkward and the grip just doesn't feel right." Tilting his head to the side, Malcolm watched as she walked over to the table and set the pistol down. She picked the rifle up and checked the aim.  
  
"Again," Hoshi insisted, sighting thin air. Since she wasn't willing to wait for instruction, Malcolm turned the target back on and stood back. If she didn't do well with the pistol, what made her think she was going to be any better with the rifle? Thirty seconds clicked by and Malcolm watched his pupil fire with pinpoint accuracy. The program stopped and he looked down at her score. "Ninety-nine percent," he stated in amazement. Lowering the rifle, Hoshi straightened her shoulders. She placed the rifle on the table and tenderly stroked her fingers over the barrel. "Now this," she sighed. "This gives a girl something to hold on to."  
  
His body responded to her husky tone and actions and he felt his uniform getting tighter. "You passed, Lieutenant. Dismissed," he stated firmly and turned away from her.  
  
"But I only got eighty-two percent on the pistol," she said innocently, picking it up and pretending to check its settings. "Not bad, but far from passing." She turned his words against him as a small smile played across her lips.  
  
He opened up a sixty-second window to better increase her chances of passing. He was in charge of the training and he could do whatever he damn well pleased. "Very well, then. Proceed."  
  
Hoshi didn't know what was worse, actually trying to hit the targets or playing bad at it.  
  
The sequence ended and Malcolm looked down at the score. "Sixty-four percent," he said, somehow managing to keep the note of astonishment out of his voice. He eyed her warily and noticed the semblance of a smile pass across her lips. Was she failing on purpose? Her score with the rifle was too –  
  
"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and smiling.  
  
Malcolm took the pistol from her and checked the settings, noting that nothing was wrong with the weapon. He handed it back to her, placing his hand over hers and walking behind her. Activating the target, he spoke. "You need to relax your wrist."  
  
Hoshi vaguely registered the puppet-like quality of her body as Malcolm aimed and fired at the targets. Her damn traitorous body leaned back against his solid warmth.  
  
The round ended and Malcolm dropped his arm to his side, but didn't step away. He should have never touched her.  
  
Sanity screamed at her to move away, but her greater motor functions wouldn't cooperate. His breath tickled her ear and her stomach clenched.  
  
"What are you doing?" he whispered roughly, rubbing his cheek against her hair and trying to convince himself this was just another dream.  
  
She twisted in his arms, her wide eyes seeking an answer to his question.  
  
Crushing his lips to hers, he closed his eyes and groaned. Months of denial washed over him as he felt one of her legs wrap around his calf. Visions of tearing her clothes off and sating himself inside her depths spurred his actions as instinct drove him.  
  
Her tongue pushed against his, demanding more, and he responded by giving it to her. He unzipped her coveralls, the headiness of desire clouding his judgment.  
  
The communicator chirped and Malcolm pushed Hoshi away with a curse. Unzipping his sleeve pocket with a vicious jerk, he grabbed the offensive tool, flipped it open and spoke calmly. "Reed here."  
  
"Malcolm," Captain Archer's disembodied voice called over the communicator. "I need to see you in my ready room."  
  
Malcolm tensed, the Captain's voice effectively dousing any residual effects of the embrace. "I'm on my way, sir." He closed the communicator and walked over to the table and picked up the phase rifle, quickly disarming and putting it in a storage locker. He did the same with the phase pistol and turned to leave, suddenly stopping and looking over his shoulder.  
  
"From now on, Lieutenant Gomez will oversee any trainings associated with my department," he stated flatly and walked out of the armory, reminding himself that Captain Archer didn't want to know of any problems between Hoshi and him.  
  
Hoshi watched him leave and took the PADD off the table, throwing it at the door. What the hell had she been thinking?  
  
The taunting voice of her conscience echoed, "You weren't. You were feeling."  
  
--  
  
Malcolm walked into the captain's office, his scruples egging him to confess his transgressions with the ship's com officer. "You wished to see me, sir."  
  
"Have a seat, Malcolm." Jon motioned to a chair.  
  
Looking at the chair as though it would bite him, Malcolm relaxed enough to stand at parade rest. "I prefer to stand, sir." He winced as he heard the guilt in his voice.  
  
Jon stared at him for a moment and shrugged his shoulders, walking over to his desk.  
  
Malcolm waited, wondering if the Captain already knew what had happened.  
  
Sighing, Jon handed Malcolm a PADD. "Admiral Forrest wanted me to give this to you. He told me you would know what it means."  
  



	7. Chapter Seven

Jon watched as a shocked expression crossed Malcolm's face as the tactical officer read the message. Admiral Forrest had been sketchy and had simply stated it was a need-to-know basis. He hated that phrase, but knew the admiral wouldn't divulge anything else.

Malcolm continued to scroll through the message and sighed, putting the PADD under his arm. "Sir, I have reason to believe I have endangered the crew and respectfully resign my commission, effective immediately."

"Request denied," Jon stated plainly, motioning for Malcolm to sit down and not taking no for an answer this time. "You care to explain this…sudden decision?"

He could see Malcolm mentally weighing his options and waited patiently for the other man to confide in him.

Sitting down, Malcolm started to speak. "First off, sir, there are parts of my service record that are fabricated," he mumbled, not really sure where to start.

Seeing the younger man's obvious discomfort, Jon nodded, already knowing which parts Malcolm referred to. "Just take your time, Malcolm."

"A-actually, that's not quite accurate, sir. There are some things that were…erased from my record…confidential matters…matters that – "

"Your time in Starfleet Intelligence?" Jon guessed, trying not to lead the conversation, yet trying to encourage the Brit to talk to him. "Your last mission?"

"Yes," replied Malcolm succinctly. "On my last mission, I infiltrated a special ops division –"

"The Sieren's Division," Jon stated helpfully, letting Malcolm know there were some things he already knew.

Eying his superior officer warily, Malcolm continued as though his captain knew everything. After all, the man had a right to know. "I have enemies in high places and one of them has gone to ground."

"Who?"

Placing the PADD on the desk, Malcolm slid it toward Jon.

Jon perused the information quickly. "What makes you think Bryant is coming after you?" he asked, unaware of the full extent of Malcolm's role in the admiral's unexpected resignation.

"You read the report," Malcolm stated dryly. "Bryant was under surveillance and he disappeared. The only trace was a transporter signal. They couldn't trace it. He obviously had some help. Even though my investigation was inconclusive, he was implicated and resigned before a full inquiry could be completed."

"So you're going to run?" Jon questioned, knowingly baiting him and unprepared for Malcolm's icy gaze.

"No, sir. I plan to find him."

"And do what exactly?" Jon countered.

"I don't know," Malcolm replied softly, realizing the captain already knew the answer. He was going to kill him.

"I will not accept your resignation, Malcolm. The Orion conference is in two days. Starfleet has requested our presence for the ECS talks and I need security down there. There's no one better qualified to provide it."

--

Darkness contained him, alluding to the fanciful concept of sleep and taunting him during the twilight hours. He chuckled as the irony seeped into his reasoning. The sun didn't rise or set on a starship. Malcolm was staring into his self-imposed solitude, listening to his demons whisper their fateful plans.

There were four of them – Archer and Forrest, Bryant, and Hoshi.

Archer wasn't as dim-witted as he had originally thought. Prepared to go over his head, Malcolm had contacted Admiral Forrest to submit his resignation. Archer had beaten him to Forrest, promising the admiral that he would not let his armory officer go without a fight.

_"I'm sorry, Malcolm. But I have to agree with Captain Archer's decision. I sent the message to you so you could watch your back. If I had known – "_

_"That's just it, sir. How am I supposed to watch my back and – "_

_"We haven't abandoned you, Malcolm. I have operatives investigating several leads right now. We'll find Bryant, and when we do, we'll deal with him. He won't be able to circumvent the system this time." The admiral's voice was firm, yet supportive. _

"With respect, Admiral, your operatives are probably doing more harm than good. The leads are dead ends and triggering all sorts of sniffers. Bryant is aware of them and will continue to elude them. I know him. He taught me everything I know. I recommend you accept my resignation so I may join the search."

The admiral's refusal had been quick and succinct, and any hope Malcolm had had quickly diminished.

Cursing softly in the darkness, he thought of his old mentor, Gregory Bryant, and the last conversation they'd had.

The elevator door opened and Malcolm hesitated as Bryant stared back at him. Malcolm nodded slowly and got on the elevator, refusing to be intimidated.

_As soon as the doors closed, Gregory spoke. "It's too bad about Mukai. She could've made your investigation. But the damage has been done, regardless. The circumstantial evidence you presented was damning enough to ruin my reputation," he stated. _

_Malcolm remained silent._

_The other man scoffed. "I've worked all my life and I have nothing to show for it, but then, you don't either." _

_Somehow, Malcolm resisted the urge to punch his lights out._

_The door opened and Bryant walked out. "Sorry about the death of your sister." If he said anything else, his words were cut off as the door shut. _

A seed of doubt had been planted in his mind and that's when Malcolm had insisted on reopening Madeline's case. He should have known Bryant was talking out of his ass.

Classic intimidation – threaten the ones you love.

Malcolm rolled over and switched on the light, reaching for the PADD. He pulled up the familiar file and stared at Hoshi's picture.

How the hell was he going to push her away again? If the captain hadn't called, he would have taken her standing in the armory. The memory of her taste and smell aroused him and he tossed the PADD onto the ledge.

Tossing his feet over the edge of his bed, Malcolm got up. He was never going to get to sleep now.

--

Her eyes grew heavy, the effects of the Phlox's sedative growing stronger. Even drugged, she fought sleep. It should be a simple matter of closing your eyes and entering a stage of idyllic darkness, but she knew she would dream tonight.

It didn't matter whether her eyes were opened or closed, Hoshi could still hear the question she never did answer – "What are you doing?"

It wasn't really the question. It was the dangerous tone in which he had asked it. She had looked into his eyes – that split second before she closed her eyes, realizing the kiss is what she had wanted.

She had gotten what she had wanted and probably would have gotten more if Captain Archer hadn't called. Did she want more, though? His azure eyes were…soulless…as though he had already damned himself to hell.

Sleep claimed her thoughts and carried them into her dreams.


	8. Chapter Eight

A hodge-podge of alien races milled throughout the darkened marketplace, the twin suns having set several hours before the team's arrival. Steam rose from the metallic grating in the streets and shadows danced on the walls. As they made their way past various merchants, Malcolm's sense of unease grew.  
  
The conference was several blocks to the east of their beam-in point – shielding around the political district preventing them from getting any closer.  
  
The ECS conference was Earth's time to shine in the interstellar trade arena, and to establish itself as a political powerhouse in the sector. That's what Orion was all about – a meeting place, a neutral ground where anything could happen and often did. It was a tactical officer's worst nightmare.  
  
Having contacted the Orion government to access security protocols, Malcolm realized there had been little point. Arm everybody in your party. That was their policy. The good news was if you killed somebody in broad daylight, there was no penalty.  
  
Malcolm took point and motioned for Ensign Laxdal to take the rear as they navigated their way through the thinning crowd.  
  
"It's going to be a little difficult to monitor translations with this rifle slung over my shoulder," Hoshi muttered to no one in particular.  
  
"You're more efficient with a rifle," Malcolm stated plainly, scanning the crowd.  
  
"I'm sure you can set it down when the conference starts," Jon added.  
  
The captain's cavalier attitude annoyed him.  
  
They rounded a corner and made their way toward the government offices, abandoned merchant booths scattered along the courtyard. Stopping dead in his tracks, he was too late to act as he felt an electric charge in the air. The familiar sound of phaser fire echoed past them and a flash of light whizzed past his head. "Get down!"  
  
Pushing the captain and Hoshi toward some booths, Malcolm registered the sound of a thud close by. He dove behind a stack of crates, dragging Ensign Laxdal behind him and checking the man's pulse. Malcolm cursed as more weapons' fire flew past his position.  
  
Through the hazy night air, he could see the captain return fire and pin Hoshi behind him. Malcolm quickly stuck his head out to scan for the source of the attack. "There are two, one up high and one down low. Concentrate high!" he shouted, firing blindly near to the ground.  
  
Neither he nor the Captain could get a decent shot off as the repetitive energy bursts kept them pinned down.  
  
"I can see them," Hoshi cried out.  
  
"Stay down!" Malcolm exclaimed, seeing her grasp her rifle and watching as bits and pieces of their cover being blown away. They were hopelessly pinned down and he knew he would have to go into the open to get off a decent shot.  
  
"Hoshi!" Jon yelled. "Stop."  
  
Malcolm turned his head and watched as Hoshi jumped into the open, rolling as she did. More shots than he could keep track of were fired as Malcolm dashed out to shield Hoshi. Hearing a yelp, he shot blindly into the night air until he realized there was no return fire. Malcolm turned around to see Archer holding Hoshi, who grimaced in pain.  
  
For the first time, he knew real fear as he saw the wound on her shoulder glow. Emotional instinct railed to pull her close and comfort her, but his training dictated pursuit. He had never felt so torn.  
  
"I'll be okay," she murmured. "Go!"  
  
Malcolm hesitated.  
  
"I'll take good care of her, Malcolm. Go!" Archer ordered.  
  
Malcolm still didn't move.  
  
Growling, Hoshi sat up. "Just remember...I get the points for shooting those bastards," she teased.  
  
"We'll discuss your points when I get back," he replied solemnly and grabbed the rifle, not hearing her response.  
  
Adrenaline took over and his focus narrowed. Cautiously, he approached a row of booths. Only a trail of blood and hastily abandoned supplies remained. Kneeling down, Malcolm touched the green-tinged blood. One thing was for sure. Their assailant wasn't human. Movement in the balcony caught his attention and he ran up the stairs.  
  
They could be regrouping and Hoshi was still out in the open.  
  
"Don't move!" he ordered the shadowy figure as he approached him.  
  
The person froze, moaning in pain.  
  
Clicking on the lamp on his rifle, Malcolm was startled as Gregory Bryant started to laugh.  
  
He could see blood oozing from Bryant's shoulder and nudged the tip of the rifle against the fresh wound. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."  
  
Bryant laughed again, not willing to show his captor how much pain he was in. "Is this where I beg and plead for my life and offer up information?"  
  
Seething with anger, Malcolm growled, "You went to a lot of trouble to get back at me. Why?"  
  
Laughing harder, Bryant winced. "Don't flatter yourself, Reed. This is bigger than you...or me, for that matter."  
  
As much as he wanted to see the man die, Malcolm knew he needed him alive. Flipping his communicator open, Malcolm spoke. "Reed to Enterprise. Lock onto my coordinates, medical emergency...two to beam out."  
  
Malcolm watched with satisfaction as a look of panic crossed Bryant's face.  
  
--  
  
Scanning sickbay, yet keeping his attention focused on Bryant, Malcolm frowned. "Where's Hoshi?"  
  
Crewman Cutler ran a scanner over the prisoner's wound. "Stabilize and wait," she mumbled under her breath.  
  
"Where is she?" Malcolm repeated calmly.  
  
"Sh—she's in decon," Liz stuttered and continued scanning Bryant, who was lying there passively.  
  
"You're going to live, sir," Liz announced with a note of relief. "Sorry for the delay. With only one doctor on board, I'm afraid all I can do is offer you something for the pain."  
  
Malcolm grabbed her wrist. "Why is she in decon?"  
  
Liz pulled away from Malcolm. "She was shot and she had some sort of virus. So does Ensign Laxdal. Phlox – "  
  
Bryant started laughing then.  
  
"What the hell is so funny?" Malcolm menaced, taking the hypospray from Cutler.  
  
"They'll be dead in a few hours," he informed them coldly. "The weapon discharges a virus, which feeds on the raw plasma of the dispersion ratio. When it comes into contact with live flesh, it starts eating. Their own body heat will kill them."  
  
"What virus is it?" asked Malcolm, clipping the hypospray over in his hand.  
  
"Does it matter?" Bryant replied calmly.  
  
Malcolm rammed the medical tool into Bryant's shoulder wound like a knife causing the other man to scream out in pain.  
  
Breathing heavily, Bryant spat. "Even if I told you what virus it was, there's no vaccine!"  
  



	9. Chapter Nine

  
  
Spirituality was a concept that had always proven elusive to him. If he couldn't experience it with one of his five senses, it didn't exist. For Malcolm, there was no God, just as there was no heaven. Hell was very real to him. Most of his life had been spent in hellish conditions.  
  
As he walked down the hall, however, he prayed. His invocation made no sense to him as only Hoshi's name repeated over and over in his head. Occasionally, he mumbled something regarding God, but as he wallowed near the edge of a nightmarish hell, his hope wavered. He prayed for Phlox too – that he be able to find a cure.  
  
Exhaling, Malcolm opened the observation window to decon. "How is...are they?"  
  
Phlox's back was to him, and Archer looked up. Nothing was said between the two men as Malcolm followed Archer's eyes. Nearest the observation window was a body covered with a blanket. Ensign Laxdal hadn't made it.  
  
"How is she?" asked Malcolm, his voice a reverent whisper.  
  
Irritably, Phlox replied, "I can't isolate the virus." He handled a hypospray and injected it into Hoshi's neck. "Her core temperature is forty- one degrees Celsius and rising."  
  
Phlox moved and Malcolm could see Hoshi. Her hair was limp and stuck to her face and her undergarments were the only things protecting her modesty. "Bryant said the virus feeds off energy and heat. What if – "  
  
"That's it!" Phlox exclaimed like a madman, gathering Hoshi up in his arms. "Captain, help me carry Hoshi. Be careful not to touch her wound. If I'm right, that's the only way it can spread. Mr. Reed, tell Commander Tucker I need a tub. I need a way to maintain the temperature of the water below freezing if possible. We're going to conduct a hypothermic near-drowning on Hoshi."  
  
"You're going to drown Hoshi?" Archer asked in disbelief, stopping mid- stride.  
  
"Lieutenant Sato is young and we can control the circumstances of the submersion," Phlox replied. "I'm open to suggestions if either one of you have anything to offer."  
  
Jon looked at Malcolm and Malcolm looked at Jon as Phlox heaved Hoshi into his arms. "Then get out of my way!"  
  
--  
  
A look of pure terror flitted across Malcolm's face as they lowered Hoshi into the water. The fever had such a hold on her, she barely responded.  
  
Phlox injected another hypospray into her neck. What it was for, Malcolm didn't ask. "She shouldn't struggle much because she's unconscious. Her airways will relax more quickly and there will be less chance for any permanent damage."  
  
"Are you certain?" whispered Malcolm, holding Hoshi by the shoulders.  
  
"Step away, Malcolm," Archer ordered, not even giving Malcolm the time to protest. Jon merely looked at Phlox and nodded.  
  
Malcolm expected her to thrash about as the freezing water filled her lungs, but he couldn't watch and turned his head. Even the sound of thrashing water couldn't make him look.  
  
"Captain, you must help me subdue her," Phlox huffed.  
  
There was a scanner next to the tub and Malcolm watched as all measurement of life zeroed out. He felt cold.  
  
Phlox walked over to the scanner. "The virus is already responding," he announced hopefully and walked over to a table. "Once we revive her, I'll induce a coma to ease any complications."  
  
"How long -- " Archer asked hesitantly.  
  
"The shorter the better," Phlox replied and paused. "If what Mr. Reed says is accurate, the virus won't be able to survive without heat. The fever wasn't responding to anything. She would have died within the hour."  
  
"Why?" Malcolm asked softly. "Why couldn't you just submerge her and keep her alive?"  
  
Phlox ran a scanner over the tub. "Viruses are tricky. If I left her alive and merely submerged her, the virus could have hid anywhere. As it is, the virus is already ninety-six percent gone and it may only be less than a minute before it is gone completely. I'll be needing your help to revive her."  
  
Crewman Cutler hovered near Phlox and readied his supplies. Phlox threw the scanner down and reached into the tub. "That's it. The virus is gone. Help me get her to the table."  
  
--  
  
Guilt is a powerful motivator, one that can drive a person to forsake themselves and their beliefs. Hoshi was alive and was expected to make a full recovery, but the mere presence of Bryant on board overshadowed the news.  
  
Two days had passed and Hoshi had remained in a coma. The man who had put her there asked nothing of his victim.  
  
Bryant hadn't said another word regarding his capture or his accommodations, merely staring through the EM field that surrounded him.  
  
Malcolm wanted to kill the bastard, but he needed information. Bryant had said the assassination attempt wasn't about him. It was bigger.  
  
Sitting next to Hoshi in sickbay, Malcolm touched her hand. Bryant didn't know how close he had come. Ignoring his feelings for Hoshi was a self- imposed agony, one he gladly suffered to protect her.  
  
He hadn't counted on her jumping into the middle of a firefight. Part of him wanted to shake her silly while the other part wanted to hold her. Either way, she was still in danger. Everybody was until he resolved his conflict with Bryant.  
  
Gently he stroked her hand.  
  
"It might help if you talk to her, Malcolm. They say it helps."  
  
Malcolm jerked backed as Archer walked up to him. "Sir." Malcolm acknowledged with a curt nod, placing his professional mask on.  
  
"How is she?"  
  
Noting Archer's disheveled appearance, Malcolm relaxed. Obviously, recent events were keeping him awake too.  
  
Malcolm sighed. "Phlox is going to bring her out of the coma tomorrow. We'll know more then."  
  
An awkward pause settled between them.  
  
"She'll be fine," Archer said more to himself than Malcolm. "I keep feeling her hand clutch my arm as I held her under."  
  
Malcolm shuddered as the image flooded his mind. "Phlox made the right decision. The virus would have killed her. Luckily, Hoshi only suffered a superficial wound. Laxdal was hit directly in his chest."  
  
A pained look crossed Archer's face at the mention of Laxdal's death. "Has there been any word on the investigation."  
  
Bowing his head, Malcolm shook his head. "By the time my team returned to the scene, the Orion government had already swept up the evidence. It's bad for the tourism business," he scoffed. "There was nothing left behind."  
  
"Damn," Archer cursed softly. "Has Bryant said anything?"  
  
Malcolm bristled at the mention of the name. "No, sir. He hasn't. He won't either. His training – "  
  
"Do whatever is necessary to find out who's behind the attack." Archer's voice was low, almost a desperate whisper.  
  
"Sir?" Malcolm's inflection held a note of astonishment in it. There were several ways he could get the information from Bryant. Starfleet sanctioned none of them. He wasn't sure if he had heard his commanding officer right. "There are ways, but – "  
  
"Starfleet doesn't allow them," Archer finished saying.  
  
Malcolm watched his captain as Jon looked down at Hoshi.  
  
"No official reports regarding the prisoner exist yet. As far as I'm concerned, the man doesn't exist. Here's a list of...coercive drugs Phlox has at his disposal. You've been taken off active duty for the next few days."  
  
He could hardly believe his ears as his captain gave him carte blanche and a bubble of doubt crept past his resolve. "Sir – "  
  
"Any means necessary, Malcolm. If Enterprise or any of her crew are in danger, I want to know about it," Archer replied calmly.  
  
An uneasy respect grew for his captain and Malcolm nodded his understanding, hoping if there were no more words spoken it would make his job less disreputable. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be here when Hoshi woke up.  
  
He took a nearby PADD off the biobed and started to input some data into it. Stopping, he erased what he had typed and set it down. "Perhaps it would be better if I just left well enough alone."  
  
"Malcolm?"  
  
Hearing the question in the captain's voice, Malcolm grasped the PADD Archer had handed him. He was going to compose a letter to Hoshi, but something had stopped him. Perhaps it was the task ahead of him – the dismal nature of brutally interrogating someone. It tended to eat at one's soul.  
  
"Nothing, sir," Malcolm stated grimly. "I'll start questioning the prisoner right away."  
  



	10. Chapter Ten

Malcolm had the advantage as he sat in the shadows and continued watching Bryant pace in the small cell. He studied the PADD in his hand and couldn't believe he hadn't seen the connection between Bryant and the Lunar Isolationist Movement before now. He never would have found the break if he hadn't noticed Bryant's financial transactions right before the man was beamed away without a trace. It was a careless mistake on his former mentor's part and he couldn't wait to confront him with it.

Stepping out of the shadows, Malcolm cleared his throat.

Bryant stopped pacing and stared at Malcolm. "I see your captain has conveniently washed his hands of you," he stated colorlessly, noticing Malcolm's casual dress. "So much for Starfleet's noble code for the ethical treatment of prisoners."

Grinning, Malcolm set the PADD down. "You should have covered your financial tracks better, Gregory. I know you're in league with the LIM. You transferred everything in your accounts to Senator Michaels before you were beamed away."

Shrugging his shoulders, Bryant chuckled. "I see you've actually done some homework. I'm impressed, Malcolm. That was always your weakness as a field agent. As I remember, you preferred to be in the thick of it before you actually started thinking. That's what Lita liked about you."

Malcolm clenched his fist, trying not to let the mention of his past lover disconcert him.

"I was quite impressed with your doctor's solution regarding your sharpshooter's condition. Effectively freezing her to kill off the virus was very intriguing. The best part was watching your face. You always were afraid of drowning. I can't believe you actually stood by while the doctor and captain drowned your lover."

Bryant's words were spoken in desperation and Malcolm smiled. Half of what Bryant said was correct, but he played it like Hoshi meant nothing to him. "First off, she's not a sharpshooter. She's the ship's com officer. Secondly, she's not my lover."

The older man scoffed. "I know what I saw, Malcolm. I may have been doped up on painkillers, but I know what I saw." Bryant's inflection wavered, as though trying to convince himself.

"Believe what you want, Gregory. After I'm through with you, you won't remember your name," Malcolm said with a hard smile, lowering the EM field.

--

When she was very young, Hoshi had come down with a virulent form of influenza. Even with all the modern medical technologies and cures available to humanity, viruses were still evasive. The epidemics weren't as widespread, but they were still nonetheless deadly.

Hoshi was six when she had the flu, the fever and her young age diminishing the memories of her ordeal. She never knew of her parent's vigil at her bedside or the anguish they had suffered.

That's how she felt now – like she was coming out of a feverish fog, any sensible memories eluding her. Her shoulder ached and she frowned as consciousness took hold.

"Hoshi?" a familiar masculine voice asked hopefully.

"Give her some time, Captain," another voice chastised.

"Phlox?" she whispered, her eyes opening to the barest of slits. "What happened?"

"Some memory loss was to be expected," Phlox assured Archer.

An image surfaced in her mind and Hoshi asked, "Where's Malcolm?"

Jon exchanged a guilty glance with Phlox. "He's…on duty."

Hoshi muttered a soft "oh" and fell asleep.

--

Feeling no remorse as the man convulsed on the floor, Malcolm stepped out of the cell and turned the EM field back on. The combination of drugs he had just administered to the unconscious man shouldn't leave him too impaired to answer the questions. It was only a matter of time now.

--

_Snow fell on the ground and she shivered and laughed as the irony hit her. She was sitting next to a fire and she was still cold. Waiting for someone, Hoshi sighed in frustration as she felt the familiar tingle of desire for him stir within her. _

_An unseen force pushed open the door and she jumped up and struggled to close it. There was no one there. He would not be coming back._

--

"I'm afraid," a tormented voice called out.

Malcolm couldn't help but smile. "Of what?"

"Dying," Bryant whispered.

"Gregory, who was the other sniper?" Malcolm asked calmly, trying to keep the sense of urgency from his tone before the drugs did more damage.

Shaking his head, Bryant mumbled incoherently.

"Who was the other sniper?" Malcolm repeated, slowly feeling any semblance of his soul slip out of his grasp.

"They are more like us than you realize. They are just better at hiding it." Bryant's inflection had an almost singsong quality to it.

"Who?"

"He could've rid himself of Enterprise a long time ago, but he cares for her."

Malcolm remained silent, guiltily letting the man slip further into madness.

"Boom!" Bryant cackled. "Humanity has no business traveling out of their own solar system," he reiterated the LIM mantra.

A sense of foreboding settled over Malcolm.

"He has no alternative now. The bomb's in place."

Malcolm ran out of the brig, not really sure where he was going. Flipping open his communicator, he called the captain. "Reed to Archer!"

It seemed like an eternity, but the captain finally answered. "Go ahead."

"Go to tactical alert and have all personnel sweep for explosives. There's a bomb on board."

--

Her dream dissolved as the klaxons woke her. She watched in fascination as several crewmembers walked into sickbay with scanners in their hands.

"What's the meaning of this?" Phlox asked neutrally.

"Sorry, Doctor. We're scanning for explosives," a young crewman explained.

Hoshi rolled her eyes as the reminder of Malcolm's duty ran about sickbay. Him and his drills, she thought dryly to herself.

--

He stormed back to the brig. The search for a bomb or any other explosives had turned up nothing. As soon as he walked into the brig, Bryant's laughter met his ears.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Malcolm," Bryant coughed, a trickle of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. "You didn't really think I would give up any useful information, did you?"

Malcolm shut the EM field down and opened the door to the cell.

Before Malcolm could touch Bryant, Bryant doubled over and started spitting up blood.


	11. Chapter Eleven

The curtain was drawn and she couldn't see him, but the sound of his voice was unmistakable. 

"There's nothing I can do for him, Mr. Reed. There's some sort of neurotoxin in his system that is liquefying his internal organs." Phlox's voice was hushed in reverence. No matter what the man's sins, no one deserved to die in this manner.

Malcolm's voice was flat. "I need him alive, Doctor."

"There is nothing I can do," Phlox assured him. "He poisoned himself."

Malcolm cursed softly.

Looking up at the dim lighting above her bed, Hoshi held her breath. She heard people moving around in the room and the doctor's animals rustle around in their cages. She felt the grasp of sleep pulling her down, and she started to nod off.

"How is she?"

Hoshi's eyes snapped open and she looked around. Malcolm's shadow cast a silhouette against the curtain. "Please don't open the curtain," she pleaded softly within her thoughts. She was weak. The virus and the treatment had taken a lot out of her and she didn't feel up to a confrontation.

"Lieutenant Sato is going to pull through with flying colors," Phlox announced cheerily. "I hear Captain Archer is going to recommend a commendation for – "

"What?"

Hoshi winced at Malcolm's harsh inflection and watched as his shadow started to pace.

"A commendation for what?" he asked, his British accent more clipped than usual. "Being a bloody reckless fool?"

"Well, I – " Phlox started.

"The bloody, reckless fool is awake and isn't deaf, **sir**," she muttered calmly through gritted teeth.

Hoshi was startled when the curtain whipped to one side and she shielded her eyes.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Malcolm asked with a note of astonishment in his voice.

With great effort, Hoshi sat up. "If it weren't for me, your goose would have been cooked."

"It was bloody reckless and irresponsible!" Malcolm chastised her loudly. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Were you thinking at all?"

"I just needed a clean shot," Hoshi said slowly, enunciating each word and closing her eyes.

"Proper – "

"Arrogant –"

"- technique dictates – "

"-- self-centered, son – " With each word, Hoshi sat up more and more.

"-- appropriate cover when trying to – "

" – of a bitch!" Hoshi winced in pain and grabbed her shoulder.

"That's enough," Phlox stated calmly, shoving Malcolm out of the enclosure and shutting the curtain.

If she weren't in so much pain, Hoshi would have laughed her ass off as she heard Phlox chastise Malcolm.

"I know you're upset, but I won't have you in here arguing with my patient," the doctor's voice stated loudly. "Please leave."

She didn't hear another word from her former lover, only the doors to sickbay as they opened and closed.

--

He was so close, so damn close to finally getting some answers. Bryant had them and he was going to take them to his grave with him. That son of a bitch! Again he was left with only circumstantial evidence, but at least he knew where the threat originated.

The second sniper could have been one of a dozen species as there were several with green blood. He had the weapon secured, but it was veritably untraceable – no markings and no residual prints.

Stopping outside his quarters, Malcolm punched the code into the panel as his errant thoughts settled on Hoshi. Her actions had almost gotten her killed…the little fool. "I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her," he thought out loud as the doors closed behind him.

His behavior in sickbay was deplorable and shame slowly crept over him. He shouldn't have goaded her, but he couldn't let on how relieved he was that she was actually awake. Truth was she actually did deserve a commendation, but hearing her voice had thrown him for a loop.

Try as he might, Malcolm couldn't stop loving her. He didn't want to. If circumstances were different…if circumstances had been different…

He let his thought trail off, unable to visualize his deepest desires.

All his adult life, Malcolm had been a rake, making promises he knew he had no intentions of fulfilling to every woman he had been involved with. Hoshi inspired something inside him that made him think of different possibilities – a life outside Starfleet, something akin to a family.

Pulling his "civilian" clothing over his head, he scoffed at himself. He would never be free to pursue her, especially now that he was back to square one.

Malcolm was starting to pull his uniform on when the com sounded.

"Sickbay to Lieutenant Commander Reed."

Pressing the panel, Malcolm called, "Go ahead."

"You need to come to sickbay immediately," Phlox's disembodied voice informed him.

Malcolm was out the door before he could reply, the Denobulan's serious tone spurring him to hurry.

--

Brushing past the still opening doors to sickbay, Malcolm glanced at Hoshi's drawn curtain and frowned. Phlox was across the room tending to Bryant. "What's wrong?"

The doctor turned toward him and motioned for him to come closer. As Malcolm approached, he could see dried blood at the corner of Bryant's mouth.

Bryant's eyes were glassy as though he couldn't see, and Malcolm almost felt sorry for the man as his face grimaced in pain.

"Ahh!" he screamed, his voice raspy as air and fluid combined.

"What is it, Gregory?" Malcolm asked softy, sarcasm leaking out of his voice.

"They did this," he gasped, straining against his restraints. "Those bastards poisoned me."

Having nothing to say, Malcolm waited for the man to continue.

Bryant gave a raspy breath and started coughing, fresh blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Malcolm looked at Phlox for an explanation.

Phlox adjusted a scanner and cleared his throat. "Mr. Bryant was indeed poisoned some time ago."

Taking the scanner from Phlox, Malcolm studied it, unsure as to what he was looking at, and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Mr. Bryant has a concentrated form of athlox in his blood," Phlox explained patiently. "It's quite harmless in humans…unless mixed with rosen."

Shaking his head, Malcolm made a motion that he didn't understand what the doctor was saying.

"This," Phlox said, pointing to a distorted spot on the scanner. "This is an alte'lc – a microscopic metallic tube, which contained rosen. Rosen and athlox form a toxin, which erodes human organs. The release of the rosen was activated by remote."

Bryant scoffed. "I don't care about their fucking movement," he wheezed, his lungs filling with blood. "They did this. They assassinated me by a press of the button because they were afraid I would talk."

"Who did this?" Malcolm asked hopefully.

More blood bubbled from Bryant's mouth as he tried to vocalize, his face contorted in pain. With his last breath spoke one name. "Soval."


	12. Chapter Twelve

It was good to be back. Phlox was right. Her quarters were much more conducive to her recovery. Giving Travis a weak smile, she laughed. "Did he really say that?"

"I know. If I hadn't heard it with my ears, I wouldn't have believed it either," he replied, seeing how tired she was. He had to limit his visit, which he hated because he wanted to stay and reassure himself she was all right. "Are you going to be okay?"

She continued smiling and nodded her head, but Travis could see that the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Are you in any pain? Can I get you something?"

His concern was touching and she wiped her arm across her eyes to dash the tears that threatened as she thought about Malcolm. She had overheard Bryant's deathbed confession and Malcolm and Phlox talking afterward.

_"Soval?" Malcolm asked, the name vaguely familiar._

_Phlox's voice was equally puzzled. "Alte'tcs are used in older Vulcans to regulate the end stages of Bendii Syndrome. The tube had to be implanted in Mr. Bryant and detonated to release the rosen. Only a Vulcan physician would be familiar with this device."_

_Malcolm stared at the corpse, barely hearing the doctor's words. "The ambassador of Vulcan," he spoke out loud. "Surely there has to be more than one Soval on Vulcan."_

_His question went unanswered as Phlox logged the death and pulled a sheet over Bryant. _

_Having overheard the beginnings of the conversation, Hoshi got out of bed and took a few faltering steps. She pulled the curtain back and grimaced. _

_Malcolm turned with a look of concerned worry on his face. "Doctor," he called, wanting to scoop her up in his arms, but not wanting to aggravate her further. _

_"I'm fine," she huffed, and walked slowly toward the covered corpse. The name rang in her head and her curiosity got the better of her. "What did he say about Ambassador Soval?"_

_Phlox scowled at her. "Now, now. Don't make me tie you to the bed, Lieutenant," the doctor chastised her. "Although I'm glad your hearing is as remarkable as ever, you really shouldn't be out of bed."_

_Hoshi pulled away from Phlox and walked up to Malcolm, unaware of his ongoing investigation. "What did he say about Ambassador Soval?" she repeated._

_Malcolm stared at her, part of him wanting to assist the doctor while the other part wanted to answer her. "It doesn't matter, Lieutenant. I'm sure there's more than one Vulcan by the name of Soval," he replied, taking her by her good elbow and trying to coax her back to the biobed._

_Pulling her arm from his grasp, she glared at him. "Vulcan names are unique. There's only one Soval of Vulcan." _

Malcolm left, saying nothing as usual.

Time had passed, and like a romantic fool, she had thought he would eventually come back to her, especially after that slip of a kiss during target practice. There were too many clichés that ran through her head when it came to him – hope springs eternal – barking up the wrong tree. It was time to banish those sayings and move on.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Travis repeated, concerned as she stared at him. He could see tears in her eyes.

A single tear spilled onto her cheek and she wiped it away. "A phase rifle."

"Huh?" Travis asked, perplexed.

Hoshi laughed softly. "To shoot him if he comes to see me," she tried to explain, knowing full and well Malcolm Reed would be the last person to come and visit her. 

"Malcolm?" Travis guessed.

More tears spilled down her cheeks. "God, I hate being like this! All weepy and girly! Why can't I just forget him, Travis? He certainly has forgotten me."

Gathering her in his arms, he shushed her. "I don't think he's forgotten you. He'll come around." Travis hugged her tighter as she started to tremble.

It wasn't until she started hiccupping that Travis realized she was laughing and he started wondering if it was an aftereffect of her illness.

Pulling away from her friend's embrace, she felt stronger. "I'll be an old woman by the time that stubborn jackass comes around. It's time I move on."

Travis smiled and rubbed her shoulders. "Don't give up on the stubborn jackass, yet," Travis said, a scheme plotting in his brain.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked willfully.

"Just give me some time and go along with everything I say, okay?"

Hoshi gave Travis a skeptical look but nodded in agreement.

--

Archer stared at Reed as though his armory officer had gone mad. "You mean to tell me the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth is behind the assassination attempt? I suppose you're going to tell me he was the 'second gunman' too."

Malcolm nodded slowly, not at all amused by his commanding officer's historical reference.

T'Pol stood in her traditional pose, arms crossed, saying nothing.

"T'Pol?" the captain asked. "Care to shed any light on Mr. Reed's speculation?"

Unfolding her arms, T'Pol addressed both men. "It is possible."

Jon's eyebrows arched, yet he remained silent so his second-in-command could finish her argument.

"Although I do not understand Lieutenant Commander Reed's accusations fully, there is circumstantial evidence, which dictates a high probability Ambassador Soval was in the area at the time of the attack," T'Pol said, pausing. "The Ambassador was scheduled to present a discussion on interstellar trade at the Orion symposium before the trade conference."

"So, we're going to take circumstantial evidence and the word of a terrorist and accuse Soval of…" the captain's voice trailed off, waiting for somebody to fill in the blank.

Malcolm started to speak, but T'Pol raised her hand.

"If what Lieutenant Commander Reed is saying is true, would it not be worth investigating?" the Vulcan asked calmly.

Jon threw his hands up in the air. Sure, he and Soval didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but he wasn't going to commit career suicide by accusing him of being in league with a terrorist cell.

Malcolm couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had requested the Sub Commander to be present as he presented his findings to the captain, but this wasn't turning out quite how he imagined. Instead of resistance from the Vulcan, she was actually pleading his case.

"I'm not suggesting Soval was the second shooter, captain," he stated, trying to keep his voice unemotional like T'Pol's. "I'm stating the accusation warrants further investigation. Perhaps – "

"What will it take for you to drop this?" Archer asked sharply.

"I need access," Malcolm replied.

"To?" He needed to know more than that.

"Everything," Malcolm stated, then paused. "I might require Ensign Sato's…gift, as well."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

  
  
She couldn't believe she had let him talk her into this. Hoshi had stared at him, slack-jawed and unbelieving that he was asking her to help him hack into Vulcan personnel records.  
  
"This is insane," Hoshi muttered under her breath, watching the encryption protocol, as it whittled away in front of her.  
  
"Don't worry," Malcolm assured her. "If this backfires, it won't affect your career."  
  
Hoshi sighed wearily, following the order that had come directly from the captain. "I just don't understand why – "  
  
"You don't need to know, Lieutenant," he answered, feeling like the biggest horse's ass for bothering her with this. She still wasn't on active duty and she still looked pale.  
  
Clenching her fist, Hoshi turned to look at him. "The least you could do is stop breathing down my neck."  
  
He was stooped over her shoulder, his head was even with hers, and he stood to his full height quickly.  
  
"You want to tell me what I'm supposed to be looking for?" Hoshi said irritably.  
  
"It's need-to-know, Lieutenant," he replied sharply, holding a UT scanner up to the screen and reading as the mumbo jumbo flashed across the screen. "This isn't working." Malcolm smacked the tool with his other hand.  
  
Hoshi smirked, snatching the scanner out of his hand. "That's because I'm not past the security protocols."  
  
The computer made a rude noise and the tension between the former lovers broke, Hoshi tapping into the keyboard at a furious pace and frowning. A quick pattern of lights flashed across the screen and it went blank.  
  
"Damn," she cursed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"The parameters you gave me are too broad," she said through gritted teeth. "I can't search for something I don't know what I'm looking for."  
  
"It's –"  
  
"Don't give me that need-to-know garbage, sir. Either you want my help or you don't." She pushed away from the desk.  
  
He ran his hand through his hair and paced the length of her cabin. "I knew this was a mistake. You're still not –"  
  
"What?" Hoshi called out sharply. "Over you?"  
  
Calming himself and willing himself not to rise to her bait, Malcolm smiled. "I was about to say you weren't up to it. After all, you still aren't on active duty, and you should still be resting. But since you brought up the subject, let's discuss it."  
  
He had stopped pacing right in front of her and she suddenly felt as though she were being stalked.  
  
"I never had the opportunity to apologize for my behavior during your weapons' training and – "  
  
The chime chirped and Hoshi jumped up, effectively cutting off Malcolm's apology. "I better get that," she muttered.  
  
Opening the door, Hoshi thanked fate for her visitor.  
  
"Hi, Hoshi," Travis greeted her, pushing his way into her quarters and stopping short when he saw Malcolm standing next to her desk. "I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt – "  
  
"You didn't interrupt anything," Hoshi replied, plastering a fake smile on her face. "I was just doing some translation work for the Lieutenant Commander."  
  
Malcolm nodded in agreement.  
  
"Well then, I'll just come back later, and – "  
  
"What do you need, Travis?" Hoshi asked quickly, trying to delay his departure as long as possible. God knows she didn't want to listen to Malcolm's lame-ass excuse of an apology regarding that stupid little kiss during target practice.  
  
Hearing the unease in her voice, Travis hesitated to leave. Malcolm was glaring at him and he was certain if the man had a phase pistol, he would have a pistol burn right between his eyes. Somehow he managed to contain his perceptive grin and realized that now was as good as time as any to put his plan in motion.  
  
"I was wondering if you were up to a movie tonight," Travis said, adding a teasing quality to his voice. "I have it on good authority that I will be able to arrange any movie of your choosing, while everybody else has to suffer through Commander Tucker's choice."  
  
"Sure," Hoshi agreed.  
  
Turning so Malcolm couldn't see him face, Travis continued in a low voice, but not low enough that the other man couldn't hear him, "That way we can snuggle and enjoy some popcorn."  
  
"Okay," Hoshi replied slowly, not really sure what Travis was trying to hint at.  
  
"It's a date, then." Travis smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Sir." He nodded in acknowledgement of Malcolm before he left.  
  
Hoshi stared at her friend like he had a tail. What the hell was he up to? Oh no! This didn't bode well. She peeked at Malcolm through lowered lids. That was Travis' plan? Make Malcolm jealous? Was he nuts? Wait a minute. This could work to her advantage.  
  
She smiled and sat down at her desk. "I'm sorry. You were saying, sir?"  
  
Still staring at the door to her quarters, Malcolm shook his head. The words "snuggle" and "date" ran through his head, his mind unable to process his former lover had indeed moved on.  
  
A gnawing sensation churned in his stomach. He should be happy for her, right? Mayweather was a decent person, after all. Then why did he want to beat the bloody hell out of the helmsman, then?  
  
Malcolm's dark musings were cut short as the blank computer screen suddenly sparked to life, flashing Vulcan characters across the screen at an obscene pace. He held the UT scanner up to it and frowned.  
  
"It's just the last of the encryption protocol giving way. We're back in," Hoshi informed proudly as the insignia for the Vulcan High Command popped onto her screen with a prompt.  
  
"You're going to have to tell me what you're looking for, sir," she said, typing quickly. "There's a timer on this and I can't download the entire personnel file – "  
  
"I need any and all information on Ambassador Soval," he replied readily.  
  
Hesitating slightly, Hoshi did as she was told.  
  
After typing continuously for several minutes, she pushed back from the desk. "Now we wait."  
  
"How long?"  
  
"As long as it takes," she mumbled, finally understanding the gravity of the situation.  
  



	14. Chapter Fourteen

A few months later --

For the first time in years, Malcolm felt as though a sense of normalcy and calm were attainable. The briefing with the captain had given him more than he could have ever hoped for.

After Archer's initial reaction, Malcolm felt as though he wouldn't be able to count on the man, but recent events had changed that perception.

Although Starfleet didn't exactly sanction the "creative" way in which the information was obtained, the records could not be ignored. Hoshi had discovered a definitive pattern of financial transactions between Soval and Mare Vaporum, the political, and only legitimate wing of the LIM.

That coupled with the recent assassination attempt and Byrant's subsequent death led to more questions and a search for more information.

Diplomacy between Earth and Vulcan was at stake, as the captain kept reminding Malcolm. In the end, Archer had forwarded all the information to Admiral Forrest.

Where the evidence went from there, Malcolm could only guess, but public opinion on Vulcan was at an all time low once the story broke. Soval was recalled and Vulcan issued a formal apology for "the unauthorized use of rank and privilege," convincing many that Soval's support of the LIM did not mirror its government's policy.

Normalcy was overrated and downright boring. His duties on board Enterprise were challenging enough, especially with a captain who ignored just about every safety protocol he suggested. He definitely kept Malcolm on his toes.

If he wasn't working a double shift, Malcolm was either sleeping, eating or in the gym. Social activities held no allure for him, as he didn't need to be reminded he had lost her to somebody else. It was difficult to ignore the gossip, especially the most recent.

_Malcolm didn't know if it was just dumb luck or bad, but the chief engineer always singled him out in the mess hall. He was going to have to start taking his meals in his quarters if this didn't stop._

_"How ya doin', Malcolm?" Trip asked, taking the seat next to him._

_Grunting a quick response, Malcolm shoved a rather large portion of potatoes into his mouth. Why did the man feel it necessary to spread gossip? Did he have a "dump gossip here" sign on his forehead?_

_Listening half-heartedly to the Southern twang drone on about who's dating whom, Malcolm kept shoving food in his mouth in the hoping he would either choke to death or finish his meal more quickly._

_"And I think Travis is going to ask Hoshi to marry him," Trip announced in a conspiratorial whisper. _

_Malcolm's eyes watered as he choked on his last bite. He quickly washed the food down with a drink and glared at Commander Tucker. "What did you say?"_

_"Travis is going to ask Hoshi to marry him. I saw him buy a ring yesterday when we were down on Regulas," Trip said with a blissful smile. "It's about time too…all their sneaking back and forth between cabins at all hours."_

Malcolm had gone back to his quarters and proceeded to drink himself to sleep. It numbed the pain, but the morning came nonetheless, along with a hangover.

--

Suffice it to say, his mood didn't improve when Malcolm walked into the gym and he saw Travis stretching.

"Morning, Lieutenant Commander," Travis greeted with a cordial smile.

Being in the middle of Hoshi and Malcolm was wearing on Travis and putting a cramp in his own dating plans. All of the false rumors he had planted with the help of Commander Tucker were starting to spill out to the general public, and Hoshi was getting pissed at him. He rolled his eyes as he thought back to his dealings as matchmaker on the Horizon.

"Care for an unscheduled sparring match, Lieutenant?" asked Malcolm suddenly. "I really could use the workout." He cringed as the blatant lie passed his lips, but the prospect of beating the shit out of the object of his frustration suddenly brightened his day.

"Sure," Travis replied.

Travis dodged all of Malcolm's attacks with ease and skill, never landing any blows on his commanding officer. Malcolm was barely civil to him, and Travis took that in stride. They parried and moved, almost as if they were dancing. Then Hoshi's voice rang out over the com for Travis, which distracted him. With a guttural growl, Malcolm's fist connected with Travis's jaw and the force knocked him to the ground.

Travis accepted Malcolm's hand up and answered the com, purposely keeping his voice low so Malcolm couldn't overhear the conversation. She was calling to see if he wanted to go to breakfast. He said no but then added really loud so that Malcolm could hear, "I'll see you later tonight."

Malcolm was in for it now. Travis could tell he was angry and wanted to kick his ass by the redness creeping up his neck and spreading through his face. So, Travis threw off the kid gloves he had been handling Malcolm with and went at him with all he had.

Unfortunately, Malcolm wasn't an easy opponent. They were equally matched. So Travis started taunting him with words, trying to throw him off balance. "Now that the investigation is over, what are your plans?" he asked Malcolm between pants.

"I manage to stay busy," came the reply and an attack.

"Well, when you get the time, you should come to a movie with Hoshi and me. She…" That was as far as he got as Malcolm pegged him in the nose, knocking him out.

He wasn't out for long because when he woke up, Malcolm was still at the com panel calling sickbay. "I'm okay," Travis croaked, wincing as he felt the swelling begin.

"We still need to get you to sickbay. Are you okay?" Malcolm asked worriedly.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" retorted Travis.

Malcolm nodded.

"You are the dimmest light bulb in the box, sir. You drag me into this kickboxing match under false pretenses because you are too scared to admit how you feel about Hoshi. I think it's time you admit…no, no…you show her you still care for her. Otherwise somebody else might snatch her up."

Travis took Malcolm's offered hand and tugged himself up.

Malcolm was beet red. "I thought you two were engaged," Malcolm stated through gritted teeth, awaiting confirmation of the dreadful news.

"That was a rumor I spread, you idiot, sir." Travis dabbed at his nose. "She never stopped loving you. For the life of me, I just can't figure out why you stopped…caring for her." Travis knew he was on dangerous ground, realizing this was a make-or-break conversation.

"Well, I'm telling you now if you don't make a move toward Hoshi, I'm going to encourage her to graze in greener pastures."

Travis didn't wait for a reply from the open-mouthed man, and started walking to sickbay.

--

He didn't know what he was doing. Travis's admission had spurred a dormancy to life inside him he had tried to ignore ever since he had come back. He cringed as he thought of his behavior toward Travis and Hoshi. He had broken the helmsman's nose and in all likelihood alienated Hoshi.

Malcolm walked to his safe place – the armory -- and contemplated his next move. He wanted to go to Hoshi and do what to her, he wasn't quite sure, but he looked at the clock and knew that was out of the question. They were both due on duty shortly, and it would be improper to approach her. Then it clicked. It was time for breakfast.

Maybe he could catch her there.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

A/N—Thanks for the review Denisud. Warning...sappy romance ending ahead!  
  
Pacing outside the mess hall, Malcolm waited for Hoshi to arrive. His heart sank as she rounded the corner and frowned at him. This was a mistake. He really should leave well enough alone. Her defensive stance alone would make a lesser man run.  
  
"Lieutenant, may I have a word with you, please?"  
  
Hoshi turned to Ensign Cutler and excused herself.  
  
"Certainly," she replied coolly, puzzled when he took her by her arm, and dragged her down the hall to a small, secluded alcove that doubled as an observation point. What the hell was he up to?  
  
An awkward silence stretched between them, and Hoshi stood in front of him shifting irritably from foot to foot. "Well?" she asked impatiently. She had missed dinner last night and her stomach growled.  
  
Malcolm walked over to the glass portal, looking out and ignoring her. A war waged within him. If he touched her again, there would be no turning back.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" she questioned again.  
  
Malcolm still couldn't speak and nodded his head negatively.  
  
"Well, then I'm going to head back to breakfast," replied Hoshi, disappointed when he said nothing. The least he could do was fight with her. That was better than ignoring her.  
  
It was like watching a movie as he grabbed her hand and spun her around into his chest. He didn't know if it was all the foolish romance movies his sister sighed over when he was a little boy or raw desperation, but he kissed her. Desperation pounded in his heart. What if this was some sick joke? What if she despised him, and he had just slipped his tongue past her open, seeking mouth? Was that her groaning or him?  
  
He groaned louder as he felt her hands grab his buttocks and pull him closer. If it weren't for the fact that anybody could walk past at that point, he would have taken her standing right there, the memories of their intimate time together branding his soul.  
  
It was as though time stood still as they continued to explore one another, remembering. He held onto her and urged her closer, her wrapping one of her legs around him and running her foot up and down the back of his calf.  
  
Sanity and propriety finally reasserted itself and he gently broke away from their reunion kiss, raining small ones across her cheekbone, then down her neck, wanting to tell her what a fool he had been, yet unable to find the words.  
  
Unable to get enough of her, Malcolm moved the Henley out of his way to explore her neck. The cooing sounds she made excited him further and he burned to have her. A shuffling sound tore him away from her – his mind playing tricks on him that somebody was coming.  
  
He held her back to his front and turned them toward the window, trying to protect both of them from prying eyes, but nobody showed up. He could see her confused, yet excited look in the reflection of the window and he knew then she still had feelings for him.  
  
"Have dinner with me tonight," he suggested as though no time apart had transpired between them.  
  
"Why should I?" Hoshi asked softly, knowing it was too late to refuse him, yet wanting to make him squirm.  
  
Slowly moving her hair away from her neck and placing a gentle kiss on the slope of the exposed skin, he murmured, "I'll pick you up at 1900 hours."  
  
The date was set and he walked away with a smile on his face, but a feeling of dread in his gut.  
  
Hoshi stared after him, trying to shake the dreamlike effect from her desire-muddled mind.  
  
--  
  
Normally she despised double shifts, but she was relieved to have pulled this one – the last of her penance from the formal reprimand on her service record. Technically, the reprimand should have been canceled out by the commendation, but the intrepid tactical officer wasn't going to let it slide.  
  
How could she pass up his dinner invitation? She had a bone to pick with him, after all.  
  
Staring at him across the table in his quarters, she picked at her food, her courage wavering as too many questions stirred in her mind. After the kiss at breakfast this morning, Hoshi had thought of little else all day long. Sitting across from him in such an intimate setting, she pinched herself underneath the table and wondered when he was going to say it was all some elaborate mistake and boot her out the door. Better yet, when was she going to wake up from this pipe dream?  
  
Malcolm had said very little, which led her to feel more unease, and dinner had run late for he had forgotten about her double shift.  
  
Setting his fork down, his cerulean eyes stared into her russet ones.  
  
Hoshi looked away. "What do you want?" The question held months of pain and a day's worth of tortured guesses.  
  
Malcolm barely kept from cringing. He had to give her that much – she was still as straightforward as ever.  
  
Scraping his chair back, he stood, walked over and pulled her seat out. At least, he tried to pull her seat out.  
  
Seeing him coming toward her, Hoshi had grabbed the table, refusing to move.  
  
He smiled. "That's okay, luv. I like a good challenge," he breathed against the nape of her neck as he moved her hair to one side.  
  
She jumped up and moved around the table, somehow believing the object would dissuade him. "What do you want?" she repeated softly.  
  
"You," he replied softly, leaning over the table and trying to kiss her. It was barely a breadth of a whisper against her lips.  
  
"For how long?" she whispered, closing her eyes and praying she never woke up.  
  
Her question shook him and he moved around the table to embrace her. "I'm sorry," he murmured against her hair, feeling her stiffen in his arms. Too much time passed for them to just pick up where they left off, and he was acutely aware of her reluctance.  
  
"I don't know who you are anymore."  
  
Unable to argue with her Vulcan-like logic, he sighed. "That's fair enough."  
  
Malcolm ran a frustrated hand through his hair and backed away. She knew him, yet she only knew the confused amnesiac he had once been. As much as he wanted her, he couldn't let his baser needs get in the way. In the very least, he owed her an explanation.  
  
"After...after my escape... No, no. I need to back up," he stammered.  
  
Hoshi stared at him and leaned against the wall for support.  
  
"When I was with Mukai, I gained most of my memories back," Malcolm stated, pausing. "Before I could tell anyone, Admiral Forrest recalled me."  
  
Transfixed and hoping she would finally get the answers she sought from him, Hoshi nodded for him to continue.  
  
"There are some things I'll never be able to tell you...about my past...some things about the present, but I meant what I said when I left you the first time."  
  
Crossing her arms over her chest, Hoshi frowned as Malcolm denied her full disclosure even now.  
  
He could see she wasn't buying his declaration and jumped across the room, startling her. "I said I would love you, no matter what," he rasped huskily, grabbing her upper arms.  
  
She didn't reply, unable as his words excited her.  
  
"After the investigation, all I wanted to do was come back to you," Malcolm murmured, shaking her slightly. "I – I had to be sure. I have too many enemies...enemies, who would harm anyone I cared for. After the assassination attempt – "  
  
His words were lost as her lips covered his, coaxing his open. Pulling away, she kissed his cheek gently. "I can take care of myself, you stupid git."  
  
"That's Lieutenant Commander git," Malcolm chuckled and pressed kisses her forehead.  
  
"Don't remind me," she retorted. "My service record may never recover."  
  
He smiled, nuzzling her cheek, then groaned as her hands roamed over his backside, drawing him closer. Her intimate overture wasn't lost on him, yet he pulled away reluctantly. "As much as I would enjoy stripping you naked and burying myself inside you, I think we should slow down."  
  
Before she could start to pull away, he continued, "You said it yourself. You don't know who I am any more than I know about you. Besides, I want to get to know the woman I'm going to allow such intimate liberties with my body."  
  
Epilogue –  
  
"You!"  
  
Everybody in the armory jumped.  
  
"You! You! You – " Hoshi stammered angrily as she stepped through the hatch.  
  
She was hardly ever at a loss for words, but this seemed to be one of those rare occasions when her extensive vocabulary failed her. Malcolm shuddered, yet made no move toward her.  
  
They had only been back for a day and had just finished up his report on their latest away mission. In that report, he cited a formal reprimand against Hoshi for ignoring away team security protocols. Luckily, it was only a minor infraction and no one had been hurt.  
  
He stared coolly at his "girlfriend," wondering when she was finally going to come up with some words to verbalize her outrage.  
  
Grabbing her arm, Malcolm steered her back into the corridor and started to explain as calmly as he could. "Just because we are dating doesn't excuse you from stomping all over established security protocols."  
  
"I – " Hoshi started to say something, but was silenced with his finger over her lips.  
  
"How would it look if I started showing your preferential treatment?" he reasoned calmly. "I don't mind the rumors. Hell, I just heard a rumor that you're pregnant, and we haven't even slept together, yet. I know they bother you, luv, and – "  
  
"When are we going to sleep with one another?" she asked impishly, her anger over the reprimand on her record forgotten. "Because I have needs and –"  
  
Silencing her with a quick, harsh kiss, Malcolm pulled away and smiled. He loved everything about her. Over the past several weeks they had gotten to know one another quite well, but had yet to consummate their newfound love for another. She was brash and got a kick out of ruffling his reserved nature. "I'll take care of your needs tonight," he growled hoarsely and walked back into the armory.  
  
She smiled knowingly and made her way to the bridge, hoping he wasn't bluffing her.  
  
--  
  
His intentions to only deepen their kiss, and then go home frustrated were blown apart as her hands slipped underneath his shirt and touched his muscled flank and finally his chest.  
  
His hands mimicked hers as they slipped underneath her shirt and against her ... lace bra? "Lace bras aren't regulation?" he thought out loud, and flicked his tongue against the gentle slope of her neck.  
  
Hoshi retorted a husky enticement, "And I have the lace panties to match my non-regulation bra."  
  
She lifted her arms as Malcolm lifted her blouse from her head.  
  
A red lace bra greeted him, and he could hardly contain the chuckle that escaped. "Is this what you're wearing underneath your uniform all the time, Lieutenant?"  
  
Her gasped response resounded throughout the room as his teeth nipped at the aroused peaks through the lace. "Yessss!"  
  
As much as he enjoyed the sight, he wanted to see the beauty under the lace. He made quick work of the clasp and growled deep in his throat as the lace fell away. Ravenously, he feasted on her breasts, alternating between the two and seeking more.  
  
Her skirt fell next as his hands and lips made their way down her stomach, kneeling before her.  
  
The raspy quality of his voice betrayed the urgency of his need. "Stunning."  
  
Hoshi smirked at the reference, giggling. "Even now, you're thinking about your phase pistols. A girl could get a complex."  
  
It took him a minute to figure the meaning of the reference through the desire-induced haze, and he laughed too. "Stun setting."  
  
He hugged her warm, firm stomach to the side of his face and listened to her laughter, loving her more than he thought possible. His hands slid lower, cupping her bare buttocks and they groaned in passionate discovery as he discovered she was wearing a t-back.  
  
She yelped as he nipped at the lace that covered her feminine secrets. Then she sighed as he gently pushed her onto her bunk, his fingers scraping underneath the material and pulling it down her legs.  
  
Hoshi opened herself to him in earnest. "Please, Malcolm," she begged.  
  
He pulled away from her for a sliver of an instant and tore his shirt off of his body. Still kneeling in front of her like a pagan worshipper, he let his breath dance across her hip, followed by his lips.  
  
She squirmed underneath his touch, her breath coming in short, succinct pants.  
  
Only thinking of her want and need, Hoshi opened herself to him further, trying to coax him to her core.  
  
He needed no coaxing and he smiled as she thrust her hips up to meet his kiss.  
  
Hoshi came undone in his arms, writhing beneath him and begging for more, which he bestowed readily.  
  
He flicked his tongue quickly and steadily against her and backed off every time the keening noises she made signaled her near the edge of release. After the third time, she kicked at his shoulder and begged for more.  
  
Malcolm stood and kicked the rest of his clothing off, kneeled between her legs, and kissing her deeply.  
  
She groaned and thrust her tongue into his mouth, proclaiming what she wanted from him without words.  
  
He needed no further urgings and lunged into her, with an anguished cry.  
  
The pace he set was agonizingly slow and deep. He watched as she closed her eyes and bit her lip, the expression of the "little death" contorting her features.  
  
The tremor of his release scorched him to his soul and he couldn't contain his words. "Iloveyoumarryme!"  
  
Hoshi collapsed on his chest, exhaustion overcoming her and murmured tiredly, "I love you too. I'll think about it."  
  
FIN  
  



End file.
